


Gentlemen Thieves and Kidnappers AU

by fictionalaspect



Series: Unfinished, Abandoned, Snippets, Bits and Pieces [16]
Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco, The Like
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, gentlemen thieves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/fictionalaspect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another story that never got off the ground, and then I scrapped when someone else did it better than I ever could. I wanted Brendon and Spencer to be very morally ambiguous in this story, but then I realized I was telling it from the wrong POV. It also required a Brendon/Ryan and possibly Z/Spencer dynamic to keep the story interesting, and I wasn't sure if I really wanted to go there.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Gentlemen Thieves and Kidnappers AU

**Author's Note:**

> Another story that never got off the ground, and then I scrapped when someone else did it better than I ever could. I wanted Brendon and Spencer to be very morally ambiguous in this story, but then I realized I was telling it from the wrong POV. It also required a Brendon/Ryan and possibly Z/Spencer dynamic to keep the story interesting, and I wasn't sure if I really wanted to go there.

"Run away with me," Ryan whispered, his hands tracing over the gilded letters pressed into the parchment. He looked up to see Z watching him closely. "Please?"

"You can't be serious," Z said. She was still holding her teacup, despite the fact that it must be cold by now. "Your father--"

"I am," Ryan said, tugging her closer so that the help wouldn’t hear. Ryan laid his head on her shoulder, something they’d done since they were in the nursery together. He wrapped his arm around her waist and then from the back they were a perfect tableau, the Ross heir and the Ross's ward, practically brother and sister in everything but name.

"I met someone in the marketplace," Ryan whispered.. Z stared straight ahead, taking a delicate sip of her tea, but Ryan knew she was listening. "A young man. He can get us out of here. We could leave, tonight--and I thought we'd have more time but now this, now this stupid marriage, and then I won't have to marry some hideous old man, and you won't either, and--"

"Ryan," Z said, her mouth curving up. She pressed her fingertips to his mouth, shutting him up. "Ryan. This young man. What was his name?"

"Oh," Ryan said, frowning. "Brandon? Bailey? No, it was--Brendon, I think. Yes. Brendon."

Z tilted them slightly, so they were staring out into the corner of the room, and their expressions weren't reflected in the great mirror that hung above the hearth.

"Then we leave at midnight," Z said, smiling widely. "I set it up with them two days ago, just in case. Start packing."

-

The estate of George Ross the Second, viscount earl of Siltshire, loomed over the small town of Needham. It was set high up on a hill, built to impress and impose. If you looked at it from below, the turrets were almost high enough to block out the stars.

“You sure about this?” Spencer said, brushing his hair away from his face with one grimy hand. He spared a glance to the ragged cab driver that Brendon had knocked out earlier in the evening. They’d propped him up against a tree, complete with an empty bottle of rum. Brendon was good at that, at managing to knock people out without actually inflicting permanent damage. The problem was that people didn’t always stay insensate, which was why Brendon worked with Spencer.

“I’m sure,” Brendon said. In unison, they both looked up at the silhouette of Ross Manor. “It was definitely her. It’s a shame, really. She was nothing like I’d expected.”

“Pretty?” Spencer said, grinning. Being in the business for as long as they had had made him slightly jaded. It was amazing, the sums of money parents would pay for their obnoxious, frustrating offspring to be returned.

“Lively,” Brendon corrected him. He took a swig from their shared water pouch. “I can see why she wants to get out.”

“Well, she will,” Spencer said, cracking his neck. “Eventually.”

“Oh yes,” Brendon agreed, grinning at him with a wicked smile. Spencer returned it. “Eventually.”

-

Quiet as a mouse, Z mouthed at Ryan, from under her newsboy cap. Ryan nodded, swallowing firmly. He watched as Z lifted the last latch of the last door standing between them and freedom, and then shouldered his bag as soundlessly as he could. Z was carrying the necessaries, their food and water and blankets; Ryan’s pack contained everything they’d managed to find in the house that could be sold illegally. The problem with George Ross the Second--well, one of them--was that he liked to emblazon his family crest on absolutely everything, from the walls on down. Ryan had often thought he might try to sear it onto Ryan’s own forehead.

For all the good it would have done him, Ryan thought to himself, smiling. Z’s small figure was light and quick in front of him, darting from shadow to shadow. They’d shorn her hair close to her neck after everyone had gone to sleep, long tresses littering the floor of her study. Now she looked entirely male, wrapped up in heavy traveling clothes with a cap on her head. It was all part of the plan. No one would be looking for two young men traveling together, even if one of them was unusually pretty.

Z paused at near the stables, motioning Ryan close. “Into the copse,” she whispered, pointing down the hill to the thick stand of trees that lay just outside the bounds of Ryan’s property. “They said to make our way to the stream, and then they’ll find us.”

“I hope you know what we’re doing,” Ryan murmured back. Brendon had seemed nice enough that afternoon, helpfully picking Ryan up after a tall, scruffy man with blond hair had rushed past him and knocked him over. He’d been entirely dismayed on Ryan’s behalf when they’d realized that Ryan’s folio of bank notes was missing, insisting that Ryan accompany him to the local and have a drink. He was funny and kind, listening intently as Ryan had laid out his woes after perhaps one too many glasses of port. He then had tucked his head close to Ryan’s and pointed out--in a friendly, offhand manner--that he might have a solution.

Almost too friendly, perhaps.

“Just don’t fall,” Z whispered back, holding out her hand. “And we’ll be fine.” Ryan laced his fingers with hers as they started to pick their way carefully down the steep incline.

-

Ryan only fell twice on his way to the stream, which he felt was an accomplishment. It was almost pitch-black in the woods, the trees stretching up towards the sky and blocking any trace of starlight.

“Come on,” Z murmured, a little impatiently, as she picked Ryan up the second time. “It’s nearly one, they’ll be leaving soon if we don’t get there.”

“I’m coming,” Ryan whispered back. “It’s not my fault I can’t see. You know I’m not as graceful as you are.”

“Oh, I know,” Z said. She squeezed his hand, a counterpoint to her exasperated tone. “Look, we’re almost there.” Ryan brushed away another thick tangle of vines, and in the low light he could just barely see the path towards the streambed. He followed Z onto it, careful to step as quietly as possible. This wasn’t his property anymore, and trespassing was definitely a crime, even for the Ross heir and his ward.

There was a faint light visible through the trees as they closed in on the stream, and Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. At least they hadn’t left without them yet. The glow became brighter and stronger until Ryan could see that it was a lantern, placed on the ground next to that Brendon fellow.

“Well hello,” Brendon said, smiling broadly at them as they broke through the last of the undergrowth and emerged into the clearing.. “I trust you’ve made it out all right, then?”

“Yes,” Z nodded, looking back nervously at where they’d come from. Ryan heard it too--a rustling in the woods, like something large was behind them. “But I think there might be someone after us, so if we could just--”

“Oh, relax,” Brendon said, standing up and crossing over to them, the lantern swinging from his hand. “Just some leaves rustling. Nothing to worry about.”

“Yes, but--” Ryan said, and the lantern went out. He blinked in the darkness. His stomach churned. He turned to reach out for Z’s hand and then there was someone grabbing him from behind, tugging his hands roughly behind his back. He could feel something sharp at his throat, someone’s breath hot on the back of his neck, and then all of a sudden the lantern was lit again.

“I thought so,” Brendon breathed, next to Ryan’s ear. He sounded extraordinarily pleased. “Why, we were going to come back and get you, George Ryan Ross the third! All our ducks in a row, eh, Spence?”

“Perfectly,” the man named Spence agreed. Ryan looked over to see that he had Z in a grip that, while it didn’t look particularly painful, also seemed impossible to escape from. He must have been the source of the rustling. When Ryan swallowed, Brendon’s knife was cold against his throat.

“It’s nothing personal,” Brendon continued cheerily. “Only it seems that Spencer and I have suddenly found ourselves in possession of both Elizabeth Berg and yourself, along with your assorted and sundry belongings. And--oh my, you’re out here all alone, too!” He made a tsk, tsk noise.

“Let her go,” Ryan hissed, risking injury to struggle against Brendon’s hands. The knife pressed deeper into his throat--not enough to break the skin, but close. “Take whatever you want, I don’t care, just let her--”

“Unfortunately--” Brendon began, in that same maddeningly cheerful tone. He was interrupted by Spencer murmuring “Ow!” in surprise. Ryan turned back to Z, who had managed to wriggle her way within biting distance of Spencer’s upper arm. “Please don’t do that,” Spencer said, shaking his head at her. His hair was long and scraggly, and as Ryan looked at him there was a sudden flash of memory--a tall figure, his lost folio. His stomach sank. This wasn’t an opportunistic robbery; they’d been set up all along.

Z lunged for Spencer again, and Spencer sighed. He twisted both her arms into one strong hand so that she couldn’t get away, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial, waving it under her nose. Ryan watched as Z’s grip on Spencer’s arm grew listless, as she flopped heavily to the side.

“What did you do to her,” Ryan yelled, careless of who might hear them. The louder, the better. “You bastards, what did you--”

“There’s no need to get testy about it,” Brendon said, still cheerful. “She’ll be alright.” Ryan watched as Spencer picked her up like a sack of potatoes, slinging her over his shoulder.

“Now,” Brendon said, nudging at Ryan’s back. “Pick up that lantern and walk forward. And please don’t try to scream, because then I’ll have to hurt you. And I don’t like hurting people,” Brendon said. “Far too messy.”

“Doesn’t seem like it from here,” Ryan muttered, unable to help himself. Brendon thwapped him on the temple with the butt of his knife. It hurt.

“Would it help if I said please again?” Brendon said pleasantly, pushing him forward. “I know you lot are used to all sorts of bowing and simpering, but we’re quite out of that at the moment. You’ll have to settle for doing what I tell you.” Ryan kept his mouth shut. He thought about trying to run, but he couldn’t leave Z here with these--these kidnappers.

God, it had all gone so horribly wrong.

He walked forward.


End file.
